


pick me. choose me. love me.

by awfulmoons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfulmoons/pseuds/awfulmoons
Summary: draco's sudden engagement forces (y/n) to take extreme measures.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	pick me. choose me. love me.

**Author's Note:**

> pairing: draco malfoy x reader (post-war)
> 
> word count: ~2.5k
> 
> warnings: none other than a very cheesy/cliche type vibe. the type of shit you read in romance novels.
> 
> a/n: inspired by a quote from grey’s anatomy (bolded) & between the lines by sara bareilles!!

Things don’t just change overnight, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) knows that. She knows that people aren’t just going to be good all of a sudden now that Voldemort’s dead. But maybe she’d expected more of Draco Malfoy in particular. And maybe that’s her own fault as well, she must’ve tricked herself into seeing something in him that’s not actually there (a spine, perhaps, the quippier part of her brain thinks). Whatever the explanation, though, it’s left her feeling more than just _stupid_.

The situation really boils down to this: Draco’s getting married, apparently, to some girl that (Y/N)’s never even heard him mention. So, out of the blue he’s suddenly engaged (although (Y/N) has a sinking feeling that it’s more _betrothed_ ). She realises that, technically, engaged and betrothed are the same thing, but in her mind the latter is a little more. . . forced, almost like Draco’s father had played a large part in it. In fact, (Y/N) is almost entirely positive that’s exactly what happened. That’s really the only explanation, she thinks.

Two months ago, the last time she’d seen or spoken to Draco, he’d not mentioned anything about seeing anyone, or being anywhere near an engagement. Although (Y/N) knows it’s not good to assume things, she’ll at least hypothesise that he’d have told her. If it was his own choice he almost certainly would’ve, she believes. But, if it were his _father’s_ choice. . . perhaps he didn’t have the chance.

Regardless of the explanation, the fact of the matter is that he’s going to marry some Fawley girl (from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, (Y/N) notes). He’s going to marry her, and they’re probably going to raise some pure-blooded, platinum blond Malfoy children to be just as snotty as all the other pure-blooded, platinum blond Malfoy children have been (as far as she’s heard, at least). And (Y/N) might go to the wedding, just to see for herself, and then eventually she’ll never even _think_ about Draco Malfoy. She’ll move on with her life, maybe marry some nice guy and have some kids. Or maybe she won’t.

(Y/N) doesn’t make a habit of believing in fate. After all, if everything is inevitable, there’s no point in even trying. At that point she might as well take a supporting role in her own life and just let the universe do what it does. That being said, she thinks there’s a distinct chance that Draco was it for her. The fact of the matter is that they hadn’t been _just friends_. She knows it, he knows it, and she’s sure some other people know it too.

If things had gone her way, Draco might not be marrying the Fawley girl. He might not even know her, or think about her in any capacity. If things had gone (Y/N)’s way, there’s a chance that she would’ve ended up marrying Draco, and maybe they would’ve had some platinum blonde Malfoy children who wouldn’t be snotty (she’d never let them, after all). Maybe. Possibly. If they’d even had the chance.

Over tea, (Y/N) tells her best friend about everything — how she thought that she and Draco might have _something_ , but then he stopped talking to her for two months, and then she got a wedding invitation. Padma listens, withholding any possible judgement (although (Y/N) is sure she’s got some thoughts), looking quite surprised at the whole predicament. (Y/N) realises this whole thing is new for Padma. She’d never mentioned her relationship with Draco to anyone, knowing what a delicate situation it would be, but now that things have boiled over she’s not sure she can do it alone.

“That’s. . .” Padma begins. “This is Draco _Malfoy_ we’re talking about, right?” She takes the invitation, hovering it a little too close to a candle flame for (Y/N)’s liking. “He’s marrying Yvonne Fawley?”

(Y/N) nods. “I thought I’d never heard of her, but now her name seems so familiar. . .”

“Probably because you’ve been staring at her wedding invitation for the better part of three days,” Padma tells her.

“I know,” (Y/N) says quickly. “I know that’s probably what it is. But now I feel like I’ve heard him _say_ it. Like I should’ve seen this coming.” Although unspoken, the look on Padma’s face says that (Y/N) _should_ have seen it coming. It’s Draco, after all. “I only thought he would’ve said something. In person, I mean. Not vanishing for two months and then this.”

“I wish I knew what to say,” Padma tells her. “But—“

“But it’s Malfoy,” (Y/N) interrupts, “and I should’ve expected this.”

“No,” Padma says, quite insistently, “that’s not what I’m saying.” (Y/N) sinks in her chair. “I just meant I don’t know _what_ to say.” Padma takes a moment to consider her next statement. “Are you in love with him?”

Instantaneously, (Y/N)’s mouth goes dry. Is she? She thinks there’s definitely a possibility. But, at the same time, it’s not like she knows what being in love feels like. It’s not something she’s ever experienced. What she knows for sure is that the idea of him with someone else _hurts_ , like she’s missing something. Like she’d found something and that was what she needed, and now it’s gone.

“I only ask because if you _do_ , I think you should tell him,” Padma continues. “Just say it, and we’ll deal with the consequences after. Whatever it might be.”

_Consequences_. (Y/N) hadn’t thought of that until now. Of course there’d be consequences. Even if he were to leave his fiancee, (Y/N) would forever be the girl who stole someone’s almost-husband. She never thought she’d be that type of girl. Not to mention, the wounds from the war are still fresh. She’d be aligning herself with a family that people still hate, even if she doesn’t share similar beliefs, and she doesn’t think Draco really does either. Worst of all, Draco might not feel the same way, and (Y/N) will have made a fool of herself.

“(Y/N)?” says Padma. “I can’t read your mind.”

“I think I do,” (Y/N) admits, cautiously. “Or I could, at least. I absolutely could. Easily.”

Padma nods. “Tell him then. We’ll deal with the aftermath. I’m here no matter what happens.”

“I just—“ (Y/N) begins. “ _How_? And _when_? I can’t just turn up to his wedding and say something. I _can’t_ do that.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Padma says. “So do it before. Owl him now, say you’ve got to meet, but don’t say why. Tell him tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah will be there, just in case.”

So (Y/N) does. She grabs a quill and parchment and writes out a quick message. Then, when she reads it over and decides it’s not good enough, Padma takes over. She reads what’s written, gives it a nod, and then folds it up. (Y/N) has no time to protest before Padma’s sending it off. After that there’s no going back. The message will make its way to Draco, and then the rest is in his hands. Either he shows up or he doesn’t.

Of course, (Y/N) hardly sleeps that night. Her brain keeps her awake, working through all the scenarios she can possible come up with. In one particularly horrible one, Draco shows up _with_ Yvonne, which of course makes it impossible for (Y/N) to say anything. In another, _Lucius Malfoy_ shows up. At that point, (Y/N) realised the scenarios were getting fairly ridiculous, but she couldn’t manage to stop them from coming.

At eleven in the morning, (Y/N) finds herself sitting at a table in the Leaky Cauldron a full four hours early. She blames it on nerves, but the fact of the matter is that she doesn’t want to risk missing him, just in case. Hannah Abbott, knowing basics but not the full story, provides her with cups of calming tea that really doesn’t help much, but (Y/N) appreciates the effort. At the very least, it gives her something to do other than just sit and wait.

Other patrons come and go, some giving her odd looks. She’s not surprised that she sticks out, she’s sure she looks far more nervous than anyone should on a normal day. However, it’s _not_ a normal day. Granted, she understands that most people wouldn’t know that. Three hours pass, and (Y/N) remains glued to the same spot she chose when she first arrived.

Down to the wire, (Y/N)’s nerves only grow worse. What if he doesn’t even show up? It’s certainly _possible_. Although, the wedding invitation leads her to believe it’s not as though he never wants to see her again. But, maybe there’s a chance that he knows what’s going to happen. Maybe she’s made it obvious, and maybe he won’t show because he doesn’t want to have to tell her he doesn’t feel the same way. Or, maybe she’d been sent an invitation on accident and he really _did_ want to never see her again. She supposes that’s possible as well.

By two-thirty (Y/N) feels a little bit like she’s going to throw up. It’s likely a combination of nerves and all the tea she’s managed to drink in a relatively short period of time. Even so, she just ignores it and powers through. The irrational part of her brain has her convinced that she’ll miss him if she moves even an inch, after all. So, running off to the bathroom to empty her stomach _or_ her bladder is absolutely not an option.

At exactly two-forty-eight Draco walks in the door. (Y/N) knows it’s exactly this time, because she’s looking at her watch just as he enters. She takes the fact that he’s early as a good sign. Perhaps it means he’s eager to see her. Or he’s just been raised to be prompt. She’d prefer to think it’s the former, though.

“Hi,” he says, when he joins her at the table.

Part of her thinks it’s ridiculous that after two months of essentially _ignoring_ her, he has the audacity to just say _hi_. Another part of her wonders what else there is for him to say? She doubts that he’d ever, unprompted, say that he doesn’t want to marry the woman to which he’s engaged, and instead wants to be with her. No. Draco’s not that type of person, (Y/N) doesn’t think. So, she supposes that _hi_ is a start.

“I got your invitation,” (Y/N) says simply. “You’re getting married. I never would’ve guessed it two months ago.”

Draco, at least, has the decency to look guilty. Which, regardless of (Y/N)’s romantic feelings, he _should_. After all, they’d been at the very least friends then. And, although (Y/N)’s never been married or even _nearly_ married, she thinks that’s the type of information shared between friends. So, guilty is a start. But (Y/N)’s not leaving without at least an explanation of why he’d suddenly dropped off the face of the planet.

“I wasn’t,” he says, “two months ago. . .”

“Uh huh,” (Y/N) says, “must’ve been quick then.”

Draco hesitates, but he finally says, “It was. My father—“

(Y/N) scoffs. “Your _father_ , of course. As always.”

He leans forward, keeping his voice down, “You need to understand, it wasn’t my _choice_ —“

At this point, (Y/N) decides that she doesn’t want an explanation if it’s going to be this one. It’s the same thing that Draco’s always said to mitigate his bad decisions. . . his _father_. (Y/N) can accept that for the past, for things done when Draco was younger, _stupid_. But things are different now. They’re not kids anymore, and she’s not going to let him continue to use his father as an excuse. At some point, there’s not going to be a father to hide behind.

“No,” she says, firmly. “No. You know what? I’m not hearing this one again.”

“(Y/N)—“

“No,” she repeats. “This time you’re going to listen. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut. I know you’re not good at that, you’ve never been good at that, but right now you’re going to try your hardest or _so help me_. . .”

(Y/N) takes a deep breath and steels her nerves. This is what she came here for, she’s not going to leave without doing it. This is the moment, she’s going to take it, and then she’ll deal with what happens from there. From now, there’s no going back. Whatever may happen, this is the best way to move forward, whichever way forward will be; forward with Draco, or forward without.

“ **Okay, here it is** ,” she begins. “ **Your choice** , not your father’s, not anyone else’s. . . _yours_. **It’s simple. Her or me.** ”

(Y/N) will always say it: she’s never been this type of girl, the one who says pick me or don’t. But in the end she thinks that this situation necessitates it. There’s no way to go on from here without a choice being made, because she’s not going to be the one who waits around. It’s a one-time offer. Now or never.

“ **And I’m sure she’s really great** ,” (Y/N) says. “ **But I love you, Draco, in a really, really big – pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window – unfortunate way that makes me _hate_ you, love you**.”

She realises, even while she’s saying it, that it’s over the top. It’s the kind of cheesy declarations that she’d have previously thought beneath her, but she guesses that she gets it now. Sometimes, when things are down to the wire, that’s what’s necessary.

“ **So pick me** ,” she continues, knowing she’s so far past begging that she’s practically on her knees. “ **Choose _me_. Love _me_**.”

When she finishes it’s almost like some sort of invisible pressure is gone. It’s all in Draco’s hands now. Although she hopes it’ll go her way, she knows that she now has no control over what happens. It’s a huge relief, even if there’s still a pit in her stomach as she waits for him to say something. . . _anything_. She knows he needs time to process, so she waits despite her nerves, despite the fact that every muscle in her body wants to run away. After all, whatever happens next is going to give her the answer she came for.

In that same moment, Draco decides that it’s about time he risk it all. “I’ll tell them. My parents, Yvonne, everyone. I’ll tell them I can’t marry her.”

“You—“

“I’ll tell them tonight, and I’ll meet you here. Seven o’clock. We can go somewhere. . . anywhere,” he continues, rising from his seat quickly, his own heart and brain racing. “Promise me you’ll be here.”

(Y/N) nods her head quite dramatically. “I’ll be here. Right here.”

Just before he strides quickly to the exit, Draco kisses (Y/N) once. It’s a searing, heart-full kind of kiss, even if it only lasts a moment. It resolves any remaining nerves that she might have had, like smoke into thin air. She knows he means it. This time he’s making the choice himself, and he’s picking _her_.


End file.
